Monday, February 11, 2008

Where There's Smoke

I'm extremely satisfied. The pattern is from Kristin Spurkland's excellent The Knitting Man(ual) and worked perfectly as written. A handsome pair–interesting without being fussy.

While I photographed them, Dolores plopped down at the computer to work on her latest article for Ovine Activist Monthly. Harry and the guys were watching Stage Door for the four hundredth time on DVD and taking rowdy swigs of Ovaltine every time Katharine Hepburn said "calla lilies" or Adolphe Menjou tugged his moustache.

Suddenly the lights went out, Dolores screamed something filthy and the sock yarn let out a collective wail.

"It wasn't my hair dryer this time!" yelled a ball of angora blend.

"I know," I said. "Ice must have snapped a power line or something like that."

"Well, I'm pissed," said Dolores. "I was this close to a rousing climax."

"I thought you canceled her account on that Web site," Harry said to me.

"I meant in the speech, you little dung tag," hissed Dolores. "And now my concentration is broken and my muse has fled."

"She's probably stuck in the elevator," said Harry.

Dolores picked up my Meg Swansen paperweight with clear intent but dropped it when Stan, who was perched on the windowsill, let out a squeal.

"I don't think this is good," he said, indicating the line of fire trucks and cop cars that were streaming up the road in front of the building. The first of the trucks screeched to halt in front of the water mains by the curb and one of the crew began to drag hoses toward the spigots.

"Okay," I said. "Out. Everybody out. Now. Stay calm. Dolores, grab your coat and pile the guys into the laundry cart. I'm going to get Mrs Teitelbaum and Tinkles. I'll see you on the corner across the street."

Our neighbor at first failed to grasp the gravity of the situation. She insisted the smell was either the kid across the hall playing with a his new chemistry set or another failed batch of challah in 1510. "Pearl just can't cook," she said. "Her first husband died when she hit him over the head with a homemade kreplach."

But I insisted she pack up Tinkles and come with me. There was some disagreement over what to put him in; she wanted to use Tupperware. By the time we got into the emergency stairwell there was smoke pouring in at the fifth floor and below and people were getting panicky.

Our little band gathered on the corner away from the commotion of trucks and flashing lights, watching smoke billow from the vent in front of the building as firemen ran hither and thither and our neighbors traded stories of what they'd seen and guesses as to what might be going on.

I'd grabbed my camera bag and lenses, but thought of my books, my yarn and my drawings for the book. Still, I tried to keep up a brave face for Harry, who was concerned for the safety of his teddy bear and his autographed photo of Nancy Bush. Dolores was divided between worry over her wardrobe and mortification that she'd had to rush past fifty firemen with her hair in curlers.

The temperature was plummeting–Chicago is in the midst of a hideous deep-freeze with temperatures well below freezing–and I realized with some satisfaction that I was still wearing my newly-completed wool socks and my feet were warm.

I called Tom, who arrived in minutes and reassured us all that no matter what, we all had a place to stay for the night or however long it might take.

It proved to be a long wait for news and a certain amount of relief. We left the building around noon. It was six hours, most of them spent sitting on a "warming bus" provided by the public transit authority, before we were informed that a ComEd transformer in the sub-basement had exploded. There was no fire, but (as we'd seen) acres and acres of smoke, and the building was completely without power, heat or water. At almost seven o'clock I was allowed to make my way upstairs to spend 15 minutes rummaging in the dark for overnight provisions; I grabbed some clothes, my laptop, and two knitting projects I'd left lying on the coffee table. Whatever might happen next, I intended to knit through it.

Mrs Teitelbaum is staying with her niece in Highland Park and still insisting Pearl's challah is ultimately responsible for the mess. We're in residence at Tom's for now, hoping the building will re-open for occupancy tomorrow as has been promised. In the meanwhile, I'm enjoying the sight of Tom's mastiff/boxer mix, Augie, flirting shamelessly with Dolores.

Until I'm back at home, communication will be spotty and work slower than usual. But everything seems to have turned out well, and all of us are safe. Except for Tom, that is. Dolores keeps trying to bust in on him in the shower.

I've been worried since Friday night. Glad you and the crew are ok. Better you stay at Tom's than at my place...Mitzi (my dachshund/mastif mix) would be trying to burst in on YOU in the shower. She's big and dumb and doesn't know the meaning of the word discretion.

This is just an obstacle on the road to enlightenment, Dewdrop. You must be doing something right if you are working through karma on this scale. Of course, I believe I said something similar when Dolores moved in. So either I am wrong, or you did something really bad in a past life.

Well, hey, I'm glad you're all right. The last time I saw firemen outside my window, it was pouring down rain and I had just given birth, and an alarm was going off in the hallway. All I could think of was that if I had to take my newborn son out into that, he was going to drown.

Sorry. That's what pops into my head when I think of those black and yellow overcoats they wear.

Glad all is well. Hope the smoke didn't infiltrate everything - not a great time to have to choose between open windows and indoor smoky-smell.By the way, since you mention Dolores' curlers, were *you* wearing something besides those charming socks? ;)

Oh, Franklin, those socks are beautiful. I have a brand new ball of sock yarn that I was wondering what to do with, and I think that's what I'll be doing. Thank you for the inspiration, and I'm terribly sad that I can't be at the Spring Retreat to meet you.

Yikes. I'm glad everyone is okay, and I hope your apartment airs out without too much difficulty, too. Fire used to be my biggest fear as a kid. I'd keep my Most Important Things by my bed, just in case. Now my son does the same thing, but he's afraid of flood. (Not sure why.) But in the end, of course, the people (and Delores, of course) are most important. I'm glad you & yours are safe and well cared for.

OMG! Glad you, Delores, Harry, and all the rest are safe and sound (and in a building with heat!).

I'm a little worried about Delores, however. I mean, here she is faced with a large group of (presumably) hunky, strong men, who spend their nights away from all their families...She would have their undivided attention...and she passed up the chance for a roomful of guys to be focused on her???

Glad you're okay - 3 cheers for Tom and for your getting your neighbour out safely. Socks are loverley. If your stash, completed knitting and books are smoked, there are tons of hints out there to get the stench out! Give Harry a hug and Dolores whatever she needs to get her back to normal (for Dolores, that is)

I'm glad to hear everyone got out safely! And yay to Tom for giving you a warm place to stay. I'll bet you get lots of knitting done when you don't have the distraction of easy internet access. Looking forward to seeing what you come up with.

I'm glad everyone is okay! Here is what happened as I pulled up your post:

The little girl I nanny for, Bella, came tripping around the corner and caught sight of your new socks on my laptop screen. "Oh!" she cried,"those are hand-knitted!" (note the proper use of the past tense!) "Why yes," I replied, impressed. "They are! Aren't they nice?" "I would call that color 'Pumpkin Sunset,'" she announced.

i was going to ask if you were still living where you were living before, but unless there was a coincidental confabulation of fire engines at your former address as well as your current one (in which case one cannot but become slightly suspicious of the person the two addresses have in common...) i can assume that you are (if not this week) still in the same place.

which means you should call me some year. ;)

your email address bounced, which is why i moseyed over here to see if you were still alive. drop me a line sometime w new email address... and tell me who this Tom person is!

oh wow. I'm glad you and the tribe are all ok - and reliable friends are a wonderful thing, no? Good quick thinking to get your neighbour out, I only hope I have such good neighbours when I'm old and doddery!

Hope there is not too much smoke damage, and you don't run out of knitting before you can go home. Keep warm :)

A fine story to distract us with, but my imagination was captured by that naked knee you flashed us along with your handsome new socks. I'm having ever so much fun dreaming about what you were wearing (or not) above those socks.

Jesse and I drove by on L.S. Drive and actually saw all of the commotion. We were of course in a moving vehicle and I yelled at Jesse not to gawk while driving, but I had wondered aloud if their was something happening in your building. I hope it's cleaned up and back to running soon!

That's a very handsome sock pattern; they suit you. I hope the stash didn't pick up the smell; the only electrical smoke I've experienced was horrible. I hope by the time you read this you have power in the building again.

OMGosh! I'm glad you all are OK! I hope you don't have smoke damage. Electrical smoke is the worst. I was in the University of Maine at Orono arena during an Ice Capades show when a cable burst. PU! But I did get to suck oxygen with Scott Hamilton so it was all good. Sexy socks there, Mister!

I, too, am glad you are well... although I was out of range of sirens, news coverage and thwarted electricity odor.How is Dolores handling her Super Delegates?(The socks are divine. Remind me of Orange Julius drinks from my yout'.)

Glad that you are all well. I can't think of a better place than Tom's to escape! Tom'll be fine as long as Dolores doesn't utter the words "What's a little underwear between friends!?!" BTW Great socks!!!

I used to do a whole "Hallo Mother; Hallo Father. The calla lilies are in bloom again. Such a strange flower. Suitable for any occasion. I carried them on my wedding day and now I lay them her in memory of something that has died." speech of Katherine Hepburns for my Mum - she used to love it!

Only you could make such a horrid event amusing to read about without invoking the creepy.Here's hoping that the smoke smell did not get into any of your stash, and thanking the powers that be that there were no flames, and thus no water to damage precious books and drawings.Knit on through adversity!

Namaste, Franklin - So glad to know that you are safe and have a warm place to stay. Here's hoping that the utilities are back at your home and you and the gang can return to your usual (or is it "unusual") routines. Hearing you're to be at the Retreat makes me wish I could be there. (Let alone the other bloggers I enjoy.) Alas, it's not to be. Blessings and take care - Joe, in Wyoming

Oh my gosh!! Thank all higher forces that you're all safe and that there wasn't a fire. I hope your stay with Tom is pleasant and that the knitting you brought doesn't get finished before you can get back in to the rest of your yarn!

Eeep! Glad everyone's safe. Glad it wasn't worse. Glad you smelled the smoke and got the hell out of there! Glad you were wearing your lovely new socks. Hurray for Tom, and I hope Dolores hasn't managed to give him a traumatic experience of his own by now. I hope you get back home soon. Good luck, and thanks for keeping us updated!

Thank the Maker that all of you came through unharmed. I had visions of Harry and the gang quickly losing weight (or body mass?) as they tried to unroll themselves quickly enough to outrun the smoldering at their ends.

Oh dear! I am so glad you are all fine! (Nice socks, BTW. Even nicer legs. Tom better be appreciative of that combo!) Very kind of you to look after your slightly daft, elderly neighbors! (Could I misuse another ! in this comment?!)

Oh my oh my oh my Franklin I am so glad you're ok. And to be able to post beautiful sock pictures and write a funny story about the whole thing - you know, you're really something special. I think you've got to be cacheing karma points for something really good. I hope you don't have to wait too long for it.

OH! MY! GAR!! well, hopefully by the time you're reading these you'll be aerated and returned. Is the Ball Band ok? Harry's compadres? (there ARE ways of dispelling smoke smells...) May I make a request? sneak into an office somewhere and photocopy your book pages; if anything happens to that the combined outpouring of woe would be deafening. Now I'm going to whimper in the corner thinking about what Might Have Been---nevermind, it's Jewish thing.

PS - Tell Dolores her campaign workers here in Mad-town are awfully glad SHE's ok! I have my phone tree ready to start calling people to get out and vote. (I AM hoping Ba-a-a-arak Ob-a-a-ma will agree to be her VP. He's in town tonight, I may go down and try to talk to him about it.)

Stage door.... the sharpest dialogue of any movie I've ever watched. No wonder the sock crew are addicted. How could they not be, if you have chosen a quality sock crew? (I'd never imagine you to knit the cheapie sock stuff that are Dude Where's My Car fans!)

Goodness Franklin, you most certainly know how to make a girl sit up in her chair, starting with the photos of those glorious socks, (on those handsome gams nonetheless) then seamlessly seguing into telling us about the fire! I'm so glad you got the crew and the neighbor and her cat out safely - thanks for looking out for others. Here's hoping you're back home soon...

starting with the photos of those glorious socks, (on those handsome gams nonetheless) then seamlessly seguing into telling us about the fire! I'm so glad you got the crew and the neighbor and her cat out safely - thanks for looking out for others. Here's hoping you're back home soon...

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